


Too Close to Call (or, Election Erections)

by Eris18



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: I don't know, I got bored, M/M, and I'm ill, so this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-07
Updated: 2012-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-18 03:47:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/556559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eris18/pseuds/Eris18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dylan gets anxious. Tyler's methods of calming him down are...not exactly out of a textbook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Close to Call (or, Election Erections)

He's got Dylan straddling his lap not facing the TV (it’s on mute) and he's got a hand down the back of Dylan's jeans.

Well, the lube's out of the way at the moment. So he's just teasing a finger over Dylan's hole, smirking at Dylan's squirmyness; Dylan's dropping his head against Hoechlin's shoulder, panting a bit already.  
It’s still far too early; the Republican states are only just starting to announce and declare. So Tyler doesn't tell Dylan the numbers, just whispers, 

"Too soon to tell yet," his mouth pressed right against Dylan's ear; then he reaches to grab the lube with his free hand, his occupied one still pressing lightly to distract Dylan from turning around.  
He kisses Dylan, smiling into it. Dylan purrs and squirms a bit, risking pressing back against the finger against his hole, even though there's no lube yet he still wants it, still wants the distraction still wants _Tyler_.

And Tyler is only too happy to oblige, still kissing Dylan as he pulls his hand out - only briefly, only to slick up his fingers - before sliding his hand back down and pressing hard enough for the tip to slip in and Dylan just /mewls/, trying to push back, get more feeling.

So Tyler rolls them, with Dylan now lying on the couch underneath him, but still distracted from the television because Tyler's pulling Dylan's jeans and boxers down, off leaving him half-naked and bare to Tyler's gaze. Tyler can't help but bite his lip at the sight of Dylan before him.

"You're...impossible," he whispers, leaning down to kiss the younger man. Dylan's trying to get some friction, pushing his hips up. But Tyler's clever, and is only framing, rather than resting on, Dylan.

Still kissing, he reaches for the lube again, slicks up his fingers again, and presses back in. He pulls back to watch Dylan's face as he curls his fingers. And Dylan gasps, his lips forming a perfect little 'O' of pleasure and a tiny bit of shock (because the fact that Tyler can find that spot almost instantaneously is an eternal novelty). 

Tyler likes to play a bit, so he does nothing more than add another finger, still pressing against that spot until Dylan starts wriggling, obviously ready for more but knowing better than to ask. Tyler thinks: should he be merciful? He takes a moment to consider. His decision is made; he starts to unzip his jeans and push them down with his boxer briefs.

"Tyler," Dylan whines, squirming, ready, _wanting_.

"Shhh," Tyler soothes, grabbing the lube and making sure he's slick enough. He leans down, pressing his weight onto Dylan as he guides himself in. Dylan, whose head drops back with a cry, his eyes closed as he takes in the sensation of Tyler sinking slowly, so slowly, inside.

"Yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes," Dylan breathes, his voice a hurried, desperate whisper. "Moremoremoremoremoremore..."

Tyler has to kiss him. Has to, or the sounds will make this end far too soon. There's hours to go yet, but...but Tyler thinks they can do this more than once. They've done it before. So he rolls his hips and simply can't help but let out a groan. Dylan's always so perfect like this. So hot, so tight.

Dylan, however, does not like slow. Tyler knows this, knows he's been pushing at the boundaries a bit. Still, he's surprised when he's suddenly looking at the ceiling as Dylan pushes himself up and down, riding him hard and fast.

Surprised, yes. Disappointed...fuck no. He holds Dylan's hips, helping keep everything steady as he rocks in counter-rhythm. And Dylan's _noises_. God, the noises he makes when they're like this.  
He can feel the end approaching already, tingling down his spine and centring at the base.

"C'mon," Dylan cries. "C'mon, do it!"

And Tyler does, groaning and curling up towards Dylan as everything clenches and tenses...and releases.

Dylan's not far behind, collapsing forward with a grimace as he lands in the mess he added to Tyler's stomach.

They lie there, panting; eventually, Dylan carefully pitches forward and then to the side, facing the TV as he rests his head on Tyler's shoulder.

"...Still too close to call," he pouts. Tyler chuckles and kisses the top of Dylan's head.

"I'll distract you again later," he promises with a smile.


End file.
